of her dying grandmother. Supposedly dying when she’d made the request, anyway.
She’d worked her way up the ladder. Then they yanked it out from under her.
Most of the friendly acquaintances she’d made in her travels hadn’t checked in the whole time she’d been here. Work friends were absolutely not the same level as the actual friends she’d made here.
There’d been zero effort to have a boyfriend, to truly connect with anything besides her to-do list. Here, she’d found the time. Made the effort. Against all odds and logic. She’d found love. Here.
But…her first real, serious, long-term relationship had just ended. She’d imploded it. And no, staying to pick up the pieces and fix it had never occurred to her.
Sydney was suddenly so tired of spending more than a decade chasing after everything. Alex had posited that perhaps she’d been running away from the pain of her mom’s departure. Sydney always believed she was chasing whatever was better enough out there in the world to pull her mom away from them.
Either way, she’d had enough. Enough letting the actions twenty years ago of a selfish woman determine the course of her life.
She curled up sideways to look at her grandmother. The brave, strong, woman she’d forever regret not spending more time with. “I think I found out that I’d rather be happy than simply satisfied.”
“Does Alex make you happy?”
“Yes.” Sydney didn’t need to think about it. The word popped right out. No need to get into the complexities and evolution of their purportedly fake relationship.
Daisy adjusted her Orioles hat. “When people are hurt, they lash out. They want to escape. After that passes? They want the comfort of home. Which isn’t always a place. Often, it’s a person. The one you feel most comfortable with.”
Huh. Was it a coincidence that word ‘comfortable’ had come up again?
Doubtful.
“You’re very wise, Gram.”
“It’s about time you came to that conclusion,” she said pertly. “Now will you please get your brother to come around to that way of thinking? He still ignores my advice on a regular basis.”
Oh, she’d gotten an earful about that ‘advice’ since coming home. “Telling him to date your best friend’s granddaughter because you two want to plan a wedding together isn’t advice. It’s coercion.”
Daisy pointed out the door. “Take that sass out of here and bring me another cranberry juice.”
Sydney threw back the blanket, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she leaned over to press a kiss to her grandmother’s wrinkled cheek. “Thanks for letting me keep you company. And, you know, everything.”
Because now, she knew she needed a plan. Not one to get Alex back. That was entirely up to him. But one to fix the people she’d hurt, unintentionally or not. No matter how hard or uncomfortable it’d be for her.
No more running.
*
Sydney was great at making a plan. Equally great at the execution.
And yet, she sat there, in her sister’s car, not getting out. Just staring at what seemed like hordes of people on the grounds of the Three Oaks Inn.
James was there, looking twice as huge as usual in white painters’ coveralls. He was running herd on at least a dozen of his students as they laid out drop cloths and trestle tables next to the piles of black shutters from every window on the inn.
Nora was setting up a table with coffeepots and thermoses, next to platters of breakfast treats. Matt and two men she didn’t recognize were up on ladders dealing with the gutters.
The inn crew—Teague, Amelia, Everleigh, and Alex—were unloading paint cans and supplies from the back of their SUV.
Sydney hadn’t accounted for an audience in her plan.
She should have. Should have realized everything would align to make this as difficult as possible for her. Because, well, Karma. But that was okay. Maybe the greater sacrifice, the harder this was, meant that a more positive resolution was in the cards?
Okay, maybe not. Clinging to that hope, though, would at least get her butt out of the driver’s seat.
When Sydney slammed the door shut, every head turned her way. And it got quiet. So quiet that she could hear the myriad of birds squawking and chirping. Then a bellow from James had the kids refocusing on the shutters.
She waved at Matt and Nora, but beelined over to Alex. He wore a Grand Orion Henley. Seeing the name of the hotel across his chest was another quick punch to her gut. He’d belonged there. Enough to have branded clothes. And she’d taken that away from him.
But, hopefully,